


He Whom Thou Lovest

by wargoddess



Series: Lazarus Effect [3]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Character(s) of Color, Existential Angst, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Renegade Shepard (Mass Effect), Self-Denial, Unrequited, love the one you're with, poor communication, the one that got away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wargoddess/pseuds/wargoddess
Summary: Kaidan's outdone himself, this time.  A character study: sex, death, and existentialism.





	He Whom Thou Lovest

     Kaidan Alenko has never been sure of what he wanted from life.

     He figures this is his biggest problem. It's why he didn't complain louder when his parents decided to send him to Brain Camp, even though it sounded all wrong from the beginning. (Everyone thinks of biotics as some kind of amazing biotechnological superheroes, but they forget that biotics are also people with long-term radiation poisoning, whose bodies have grown microscopic tumors around the eezo particulates.) And Kaidan's generalized uncertainty of principle is why he didn't take the Alliance's offer to upgrade his old buggy L2. The whole point was to be more powerful, right? So he didn't take the risk of ending up a vegetable or a non-biotic. Instead he'd chosen to do nothing and keep the L2, because some part of him reasoned that it was better to suffer the migraines; better not to make himself even more of a Frankenstein. Now he's verging on obsolete.

     Kaidan figures his taste in sexual partners is another manifestation of the same issue. He's always gone for pretty, powerful people with problems -- say it three times fast, still fucked up no matter how cutesy it sounds. But then, once he's got them, he _doubts_ , and it hurts the relationship. He made his first kill trying to protect Rahna, at Brain Camp, out of misguided chivalry and the fear that she could not protect herself. He slept with the biotic instructor they assigned to him at boot camp. Didn't need instruction, after all; Vyrrnus had been an abusive asshole, but Kaidan had been able to show Si-lung a thing or two in between bouts of fevered, hormone-fueled, mindblowing sex. (Why, oh why, did they let people into the military at eighteen? Kaidan hadn't been able to think straight until at least twenty-two.) But somewhere along the way, once he finally managed to think without his dick's involvement, it had occurred to Kaidan that instructors shouldn't have sex with recruits. He shouldn't have worried about it. Should've just enjoyed sleeping in the private bunk of one of the handsomest men at camp. But he'd fretted so much that Si-lung got nervous -- Kaidan wasn't the one breaking regs, after all -- and broke the whole thing off. And then there was Shepard... but Kaidan doesn't want to think about Shepard anymore. That spot's still tender to the touch.

     This new guy, though. Kaidan's outdone himself this time.

     He hasn't told any of his few friends or colleagues about his new relationship. What could he say, if he did? _I'm boning Shepard's clone. Yeah, the one that tried to kill him. Yeah, the one that tried to kill **me**. Hey, but it's okay, he's changed his appearance and reformed his ways, so it's not **completely** twisted._ Kaidan doesn't think they would reject him outright if they knew, but he's not really sure about that. He's especially not sure how Shepard would take it -- and if he talks to anyone about it, word will get back to Shepard eventually. So he keeps it secret. He tells himself this is necessary for other reasons, too; most SPECTREs are circumspect about their personal lives, understandably. He tells himself that shame isn't part of his reticence; if the clone was anyone else, he'd be open about it. (But the clone is... the clone.) Mostly Kaidan manages to believe this. Otherwise, though? Most days he has trouble believing that it's even happening.

     Kaidan gazes at the clone now from bed. It's 3 a.m. and they've just finished fucking, here on the Silversun Strip where the Citadel never sleeps. They're in a hotel; Kaidan still berths in Alliance barracks out of stubborn habit, and the clone's tiny rented room in Zakera Ward has only a twin-size bed. Both of them can afford better, Kaidan knows, but the habits of more precarious life linger.

     Like now: the clone stands silhouetted against the hotel room's window, framed by half-open blinds, his body limned in the light of a thousand neon signs and passing car-lights. He's changed this body so much from Shepard's template that occasionally Kaidan forgets what he really is. (Occasionally.) He's dark brown now, and the bone structure is slightly different -- a little longer-proportioned, same mass distributed along leaner lines. Still a warrior's body, but less of a front-line bruiser. The clone is the kind of man who flanks his opponents and guts them from the side before they realize he's there. It's something Kaidan tries to keep in mind about him.

     (The clone _did_ try to kill Kaidan. He _was_ raised by one of the Illusive Man's espionage masters. Kaidan might be thinking with his dick again, but he's not a naïve kid anymore.)

     The clone's not looking out the window right now, the way Shepard might have done had a thousand "what ifs" resolved differently and landed Kaidan in a different bed. The clone faces inward, which is perhaps symbolic. His gaze occasionally wanders around the room, taking in its dimensions, noting its exits, perhaps visually scanning for listening devices or potential threats -- but always, at the end of these sweeps, his eyes return to Kaidan. They never leave for long.

     It should scare Kaidan, maybe. Being the object of such intense focus. He hasn't figured out yet why it doesn't scare him.

     Kaidan stretches, lazily post-coital, and scratches at his belly. The clone's eyes flick to follow this movement, and linger. Well, hello. Kaidan grins. "Something on your mind?"

     The clone focuses on his face again. "What is it that you want?"

     It doesn't sound accusatory. Kaidan isn't sure he'd be able to tell even if it was, though, because the clone is hard to read at the best of times. It isn't that he doesn't exhibit emotion; it's that he's spent so much of his life _performing_ emotion, as Brooks taught him to, that pretty much nothing except his fight-or-flight reflexes are spontaneous. He's unlearning the performance, learning to relax, figuring out who to be when others tell him _just be yourself_ , but it's taking time. So Kaidan doesn't let himself react to the question with insecurity or defensiveness, the way he would if another person had asked it. He takes it at face value, and sits up on one elbow to consider it.

     "From you?" Kaidan asks.

     The clone shrugs. "From life."

     "What, right now?"

     "Whenever."

     Kaidan's really just been thinking about a blowjob, but he doesn't want to admit that. He chews on the question for a moment, trying not to wonder what has prompted it. One gets used to surprise bouts of existentialism in a relationship like this. The clone is quiet -- remarkably so compared to Shepard, but then Kaidan tries not to compare him to Shepard more often than every five minutes or so, and here he was just comparing their bodies and strategic approaches to life, so maybe -- Maybe Kaidan should just answer the question.

     It's tempting to be glib and say something like _Galactic peace_ , but with the Reapers busy destroying that, it seems like a tall order.

     Huh. "Order," Kaidan blurts. The clone doesn't reply, but Kaidan sees him absorb this and turn it around in his head. So Kaidan elaborates. "It's... the thing that made me join the Alliance, I guess. I'd been through hell at Brain Camp. Didn't want to use my biotics against another living being, ever again. Didn't want to be what the mercs had tried to make me: a living weapon."

     "Ah," the clone says. Such an eloquent syllable, from a man who was grown and trained and deployed as a weapon himself.

     "Yeah. But." Kaidan sighs. "But. That's what I am. That's what all biotics are, like... like human-shaped knives. But knives can build things, too, right? Like... you can use a knife to cut materials or samples, and build something from that. You can use a scalpel to cut out tumors or blockages. Stop a heart attack. Destroy a cancer."

     "Order from chaos," the clone says. Now he sounds thoughtful.

     "Yeah." Kaidan sits up, warming to the subject. "Yeah, I guess... yeah. I joined the Alliance to use my biotics _for_ something, not _against_ people. That's why I became a SPECTRE in the middle of the damned Reaper War." His jaw tightens as he thinks of Earth, and Palaven, and the trillions of people who are struggling and dying even as he sits here talking about the future. "The Reapers are trying to tear everything down, and opportunists and scavengers are making the whole mess worse. I'm just one man, but... but I'm gonna do everything I can to make it better. Until I can't, anymore."

     The clone says nothing for a moment. Then he straightens and comes over to the bed. "You've tensed up."

     Kaidan blinks when the clone bends and takes his hand, which has clenched unnoticed around a knot of sheet. "Oh. Yeah. Happens every time I talk about galactic peace." He chuckles.

     "You can't build anything if you're honed so sharp that you break," the clone says. It's unexpectedly poetic, and Kaidan can't help smiling in response. The clone doesn't smile back. He pries Kaidan's fist loose, pulls the sheets away, then pushes Kaidan back. Bemused, Kaidan lets him do so, then chuckles when the clone seems to examine his body as if searching for something. He puts a hand on Kaidan's belly, the spot where Kaidan scratched before.

     Kaidan lifts an eyebrow. "Uh, you know, if you _do_ have something else on your mind, maybe it's not a great idea to get me all riled about the state of the galaxy, guy. Kind of a boner-killer, subject-wise."

     The clone's gaze flicks back up to meet his. He's always so serious. "You don't need to do anything." His fingers are examining that spot on Kaidan's belly. It stings a little with the memory of Kaidan's own nails; there's four parallel lines there, faintly red. The clone covers this with his palm, as if the sight of anything marring Kaidan's skin is somehow unacceptable. Then he draws a circle around the spot with his fingertips, pressing in just a little, pulling the skin tight as if he's trying to remove the marks.

     It's weird, but that's nothing new. Kaidan remains somewhat shocked that the clone was a virgin before they first made love. He'd figured Brooks or... someone. The clone's lovely, and not shy. But the clone doesn't let his inexperience get in the way. Kaidan supposes he can't, really; _everything_ is new to him. He approaches it all with the same intense focus. Right now, for example, he's _studying_ Kaidan. Contemplating the tensile strength of his skin. Observing the way the tiny hairs react when he brushes just above the skin, against their growth pattern -- oh, and the way goosebumps rise in the wake of this. Circles outward, brushing the join of Kaidan's thigh and hip, then back up to his navel. He traces Kaidan's navel with a fingertip, then pushes that finger in to toy a little with the nub within. Abruptly his eyes flick with interest, attracted by change; ah, he's noticed Kaidan's chest heave with a caught breath. He leans close, his breath tickling Kaidan's skin, to observe the way his nipples have tightened. His lips part, and he leans close to lick -- then pulls back to watch more goosebumps rise in a circle 'round the nipple.

     "Dear God," Kaidan breathes.

     The clone looks up at his face in mild surprise. "Oh. You _do_ want sex."

     " _Yeah_ , I want sex."

     "Porn gets it so wrong," the clone says, thoughtful. Then he bends down, and Kaidan reaches for him, and they rachet things up from theory to practice.

     Sex with the clone is always a little weird. He's not averse to anything, will try everything once, and seems to enjoy most of it. But he doesn't really seem to get the _point_ of it all. Doesn't like orgasm, for example. He'll turn Kaidan into a groaning wreck in a heartbeat, but when Kaidan tries to return the favor, he demurs. For a while Kaidan suspected trauma, and he's asked careful questions, but that's not it. He figures the clone's just not very sexual? Not everyone is. Maybe he likes being with Kaidan, likes Kaidan's pleasure, and that's simply enough for him.

     Except... it doesn't really seem like that, most times. The clone is spooned up with Kaidan right now, holding him tight while he shudders, jerking him off with one relentless hand. His breath is coming harder than the exercise really merits. His cock, pressed against Kaidan's ass, is hard as carbon nanofiber tubing. His free hand toys with Kaidan's nipple. Now and again he bites Kaidan's shoulder, and there's _hunger_ in it. Like he wants to bite more, lick more, suckle more, but is holding himself back. That's not disinterest. And when Kaidan starts to lose it, because the clone's hand is so strong, so steady, so good, the clone growls a little and presses sharply forward, forcing Kaidan onto his belly. Kaidan thinks that's it, the clone's done with teasing himself, and Kaidan moans and lifts his hips in blatant want. But the clone just positions himself so he's got good leverage. Then he presses his face into Kaidan's hair and his hand works harder, faster -- and when Kaidan gasps and loses it, the clone moans like _he's_ the one jerking in helpless spasms, like _he's_ the one tingling all over from balls to the back of his throat, like _he's_ the reason a microshield materializes around his dick for those crucial few seconds, then vaporizes away the mess.

     And then the clone, who is breathing so hard against the back of Kaidan's neck, who is shaking a little upon him, who has so-obviously gotten off on watching Kaidan's dissolution that Kaidan marvels he hasn't come already... Lets him go. Kisses his shoulder, where the imprint of teeth still stings, and rolls off him. He stays close. They both like to touch, after. But when Kaidan finally recovers enough to roll over and curl against the clone's side, the clone is still swallowing, sweating a little, eyes shut tight as if he's afraid that even erotic thoughts will set him off. Kaidan knows what the clone will say, but he still offers -- wordlessly, with a gentle touch on the clone's thigh, near but not touching that lovely erection. The clone shakes his head, hard; his whole body shakes. So Kaidan takes his hand away -- it's cruel not to -- and lies there watching him slowly, so slowly, pull back from the brink.

     This is not the only strange thing the clone does in lovemaking, not by far, but it's the only thing that actually bothers Kaidan. Usually he pushes past the vague sense of hurt that he feels, aware that he's too fundamentally different from the clone to ever truly understand him... but for some reason tonight he's more raw than usual. He rolls away from the clone to lie on his back as well, and for the first time that night there is space between them. It hurts to have this space there, unexpectedly, even though he needs it. Kaidan throws an arm over his eyes and wonders what the hell is wrong with him.

     He hears the clone's head turn on the pillow, noticing the sudden distance. "What is it?"

     _I feel like you don't want to share yourself with me. Like I'm not worthy of all of you. I didn't know I wanted all of you, but I do._

     No. He will not allow his self-absorption to hurt another person.

     "Nothing," Kaidan murmurs. "Just tired. Let's get some sleep."

     He drifts off, and does not know when or if the clone does the same.

***

     In the morning, over breakfast, the clone asks again: "What is it that you want?"

     It's too early for existential conundrums. Kaidan stifles a yawn, shovels a forkful of omelet into his piehole instead, and mutters, "Coffee." He's got some, but it isn't in his bloodstream yet. He picks up the cup of cold brew and takes three big swallows, then lowers the cup to find the clone watching him intently.

     "Why doesn't the Alliance give you a frigate?" the clone asks.

     It's so out of the blue that Kaidan replies honestly, blinking as he does. "Because I'm not the commander of a frigate. Just because I'm a SPECTRE now..." He shrugs. "Most SPECTREs work alone. And shipless."

     "You refused the Alliance brass' attempts to promote you to a command. Twice."

     Because on some level, Kaidan still wanted to serve under Shepard. He sets the cup down, and must finally confront what he's avoided thinking about for the past few months: that there will be no more serving under Shepard. There will be no more anything with Shepard. Shepard nearly shot him; would have, if Kaidan hadn't stepped aside to let him shoot Udina. They're not even friends anymore.

     "You would be more effective," the clone says, decisively, while Kaidan sits there aching, "with a frigate." He reaches over to spear the other half of the omelet, his brow lined with irritation. "Just because you're the second human SPECTRE doesn't mean you're not also an important symbol to humanity. They should treat you better."

     "It's fine," Kaidan says. He's used to being in Shepard's shadow.

     "It isn't fine." The clone sighs, however, and relents on this. "A corvette would do, though. Ten-person crew, small enough to land planetside but big enough to have real weaponry... Not ideal, but better than nothing. With a good team, you could get a lot done."

     It soothes away the hurt, somehow, that this man, made from Shepard, is so angry with Shepard. Without even really trying to be, now that he's given up the whole "evil clone" schtick. Kaidan smiles, and feels something of the hole that Shepard has left in him, filling.

     "I'll be sure to let the Alliance know," he says gently, "next time they've got a spare frigate or corvette lying around."

     "They're useless," the clone snaps, and pours him more coffee.

***

     It's an unspoken thing between them that they don't talk about Kaidan's work. The clone doesn't have any security classification. They don't talk about the clone's work either -- he's a cop with C-SEC, recently promoted to officer -- but that's because, as the clone says dismissively, there's nothing to talk about. Catching murderers and helping homeless orphans get into shelters is good work, but not galaxy-saving work. Not the sort of thing the clone was bred for, or that Kaidan has trained for. So they end up not talking about work at all.

     (The clone seems content to have an unremarkable life. This is amazing to Kaidan, and more proof that the clone is not Shepard. Shepard couldn't do unremarkable if he tried.)

     Still, one day Kaidan has to let the clone know: "I'll be gone for about a week. Radio silence, this time." Though the clone rarely calls him. The clone's not much of a small talker, and contemplative touches and intent looks don't work as well over holovid.

     The "radio silence" point is unusual enough that the clone glances at him. He's frowning again, but Kaidan knows that doesn't mean much. The clone is a serious, frowny guy. "A recon mission?"

     Kaidan shrugs, moving past the clone to set his duffel on a chair. They're in the clone's tiny apartment. The bed here will do in a pinch, especially when they aren't really planning to sleep. He turns back, tugs off his shirt, and steps close to take the clone's hands. "Just something I want to check out," he says, as reassuringly as he can. "It doesn't make sense that the Reapers haven't attacked the Citadel yet. This is their station; they know it better than we do, and it's a strategically valuable target. The Council thinks it's because of the fleet." The clone snorts before Kaidan can. "Yeah, well. They were too busy being hustled away by the Destiny Ascension to realize just how badly Sovereign kicked the Citadel Fleet's ass, last time. And they're not military, except Sparatus, and he's in denial. If one Reaper did that much damage, imagine if they sent five."

     The clone chews on this while Kaidan undresses him. Then abruptly he frowns -- a real frown this time, deep and foreboding, sharpening his eyes and tightening his jaw. This makes Kaidan's hands stutter on the fastenings of the clone's clothing, because in that moment he looks entirely too much like Shepard.

     "You're going into the nebula," the clone says. "To see if there's some kind of surprise hidden in the cloud." Because there has to be something like that out there. The Reapers aren't stupid. They'll have built some kind of failsafe, for when their usual tactic of taking the Citadel by surprise fails. Kaidan's proud of the clone for figuring it out. But -- "You're going in a _shuttle_? A flying brick?"

     Oh, hell. "In a UT-47A, yeah."

     "A stealth-equipped brick."

     Kaidan sighs. "Look, it's probably a wild goose chase."

     "No." Abruptly the clone turns and paces away from him, which is a feat because the apartment isn't really big enough for dedicated pacing. "You don't do wild goose chases. Shepard, he's the Council's cannon, but _you're_ their scalpel. You wouldn't be going out there if you weren't looking for something specific, in a specific place. If you didn't expect something to be there."

     The sheer irony of Shepard's clone comparing _Kaidan_ to Shepard momentarily makes Kaidan chuckle. It's the wrong reaction. Belatedly Kaidan realizes he's never seen the clone truly angry before.

     The clone stops and sets his feet and glimmers for an instant before his biotics settle. "Tell me where you're going," he says.

     Shit. "You know I can't."

     His head tilts. It's not quite Shepard's anger. Shepard burns hot; the clone is chilly. "Can't, or won't?"

     There's absolutely no reason Kaidan can't tell him. The mission isn't classified. It's literally just a shuttle ride out and back. But he doesn't like the way the clone has suddenly turned into another man -- the man Kaidan didn't choose, damn it, precisely because he wasn't interested in dealing with this temper or this looming violence or this overbearing bullshit. And he's damn sure not going to give in to it, now that it's appeared.

     Setting his jaw, Kaidan picks up his shirt and starts putting it back on.

     The clone stares at him the whole time. So Kaidan glares at him and spreads his hands, braced for the fight that would be inevitable with Shepard, and snaps, "What?"

     The clone turns and leaves the apartment.

     Well. Shit.

     Kaidan isn't disappointed, exactly. Or hurt, exactly. They've never fought before, but it would've happened eventually. And Kaidan expected... well. Damn it. It's completely fucked up because this would've meant losing the fight, but Kaidan expected that a man with Shepard's genes would be more stubborn about getting what he wanted, if it was important to him.

     What does that mean, then? That _Kaidan_ isn't important to him?

     Damn it.

     He's got perma-access to the clone's apartment, so he locks up when he leaves. And he's left a note on the bed in his wake, which feels like a cop-out, but he doesn't want to let insecurities and assumptions run the show. Best to say what's on his mind, finally, and give the clone a chance to do the same, and then... well. They'll see.

     _Let's talk when I get back_.

***

     Of course, Kaidan's not exactly expecting to get sucked through an unstable wormhole into dark space.

     It's fine. Well, no, but it could be worse. There are no Reapers nearby in the starless, black-clouded void that he finds himself trapped in, or at least not that he can see. There's nothing near him. And no wormhole that will allow him to get back.

     He powers down as much as he can, of course, as soon as he realizes the dilemma. It follows that the Reapers can create trapdoor wormholes -- in essence point-to-point mass effect relays, without the relay. They're inefficient things, requiring a high-level eezo coreburst to trigger from this side. (Shuttles do not have eezo cores, however.) Nearly undetectable until you're right on top of them -- and then they've got a built-in defense against discovery; any ship that gets too close gets sucked in and tossed a million light-years away. Kaidan suspected that something like this must be hidden in that quadrant of the Citadel nebula, so in searching for evidence he got too close. Whoops.

     At the shuttle's top FTL speed, it will take nine thousand years to reach the edge of the Milky Way, give or take a century. Kaidan fleetingly considers setting the ship on autopilot anyway. Maybe Liara's great-grandchildren will find his dusty corpse.

Better bet: If he diverts power from the transponder, he can get two, maybe three days' worth of water out of the emergency water reclamation system on the shuttle. Might as well; there's no one out here to hear the transponder anyway. But if nothing else, that might give him time to think of a way out of this.

     Could be worse. Could be way better.

***

     It's the clone's face, in orgasm.

     Erotic instant replay. With death looming, the mind reaches for life in whatever way it can. Here in the space of dream, Kaidan studies it, as the clone so often studies him. He feels detached this time, as one does in dreams, and not what Kaidan usually feels when he is with the clone (amusement, tenderness, urgency of his own if his hungers have not been satisfied). In the real world he has no sexual needs; he's been lost in dark space for three days and he's dying of thirst. At first he was thinking that he could space himself if the Reapers return, so as not to give them an indoctrinated SPECTRE to send back to the Citadel -- but by now it is clear that the Reapers aren't coming back to this portal anytime soon. They're off in the Milky Way destroying everything Kaidan knows and loves. And no one is coming for him, because no one knows where he is. He's going to die.

     So in his extremity he dreams of the difficult, strange man whom he has begun to love, whom he regrets hurting with his selfishness -- from here, with nothing to do but think, it is obvious that the clone's anger on that last day was really fear -- and whose loss he mourns even though he is the one who will die alone and dessicated, his body never to be found.

     So he dreams of the clone in love. In loving, yielding. That first time they were together, the clone's first time ever, he clung to Kaidan so tightly, breathed so hard. When Kaidan took him up, made him soar, the clone allowed it, but his muscles were taught, his face turned away. _Fear_ , Kaidan realizes at last, in a moment of epiphany. Like everything about the clone, he masks one thing with another. He kept his jaw set, his breath a growl -- but underneath it all, he was afraid.

     Kaidan has been seeing him as another Shepard, expecting the anger... but Shepard's anger is so often fear, too, isn't it? God, maybe he's never known Shepard at all. Or Shepard's clone, for that matter.

     Ah, and now fear and anger and delight and desperation and ten thousand other emotions flood the clone's face when the moment strikes. Everything he hides at other times -- he _can't_ hide it now, Kaidan realizes, in wonder. He gives himself so completely, stinting nothing, that there is almost nothing left when he is done. And as it bows the clone's back and Kaidan finally remembers that there were _tears_ running down the sides of his face that night, he suddenly, finally, understands. A little. Enough. For the clone, orgasm is not mere pleasure, but a baring of the soul.

     Kaidan wakes shivering, not with desire but with regret.

***

     Kaidan's recording his final log, croaking out words from a parched throat, when he notices a flash against the blackness of the shuttle's viewport.

     The shuttle still has power; it'll outlive him. He warms it up enough to activate the sensors -- warily, with one hand over the final keys of the explosive decompression sequence. If it's Reapers...

     It's not Reapers.

     What comes arcing out of the darkness to circle his shuttle is graceful and stubby and almost cute to Kaidan's frigate-trained eyes -- almost as if someone made a chibi version of the _Normandy_. But someone's tinkered with this one, he notes as he blinks and prays it isn't a thirst-induced hallucination. The ablative plating is... weird. Black, and almost like that skin-textured stuff the Reapers use. It's got a turian railgun, if Kaidan doesn't mistake its gun port; Thanix-class, if anyone makes Thanixes in snack size. There are glowing blue lines along its plate-seams, wisping off static energy as it flies. But that would mean this dainty little thing has an actual mass effect core, and who would do that? Who would trust such a tiny ship with a monster engine? And who would bring it here?

     He knows before the comm hail comes. Knows, even as some dehydrated part of his brain insists that it can't be true. But that ship frame -- he's placed it, finally. They're rare in the Alliance, being phased out in favor of more cost-efficient fighters. Cheap to buy as stripped-down frames secondhand on the open market. It's a _corvette_. It's a goddamned corvette.

     "Kaidan," says the clone over the speakers. It's almost inflectionless, emotionless. Almost.

     "You're kidding me," Kaidan blurts, slurring in his weakness. "You're... My God. I don't believe this."

     "Why wouldn't I find you?"

     The clone's voice seems to float, or maybe that's Kaidan's ship disengaging artificial gravity in order to match up with the corvette's spin for docking. Kaidan's thoughts stutter in sudden horror. "No," he breathes. "Now you're trapped here, too."

     "No, we're not. Maelon says our mass effect core discharge is more than powerful enough to trigger the portal back. It'll just take time." The clone's voice is gentle. "I knew you would've come back if you could have."

     God. Kaidan doesn't deserve him.

     The dock lock is secure. Kaidan grabs his helmet, dons it with shaking hands, and lets himself be rescued.

***

     It takes a day of shiptime for the little corvette's mass effect core to build up enough charge to trigger the portal. And on the way back, the ship continues to discharge energy along some frequency that the salarian -- Maelon Heplorn, God help them all -- recommends as a means of "cauterizing the subspace pathway," or something. Bottom line: once they're through the wormhole, the Reapers won't be able to use it again.

     Kaidan spends that time in what passes for the ship's medical bay, being treated for dehydration, low blood sugar, and migraine. He's a little out of it, but not so much that he doesn't notice the crew members calling him _sir_ whenever they're in his presence. He doesn't know any of them, except Maelon by reputation, and he's not sure how the clone got them all together. There's a quarian ex-indentured servant, shy and quiet but a monster with a haptic interface. There's an oddly-spoken young krogan, who eyes Kaidan for a long moment before declaring that perhaps Kaidan has purpose enough to suit, whatever that means. There's another SPECTRE, Jondam Bau, here for evaluation purposes only -- though Kaidan forgets to ask what he's evaluating. He commends Kaidan for risking his life to neutralize a dire threat to the Citadel. There's also a guy Kaidan's sworn he's met before, Conrad something, a doctor of xenoscience studies. Competent, so long as someone keeps an eye on him. Mostly that's handled by a few of the clone's C-SEC colleagues who are aboard as well; a woman named Jenna seems to find Conrad particularly charming.

     And in charge of them all is the clone. Who sleeps in the chair by Kaidan's bed, and who touches Kaidan's jaw once, his fingers lingering, the one time he must leave to supervise the crossing into Citadel space.

     Then they're back at the Citadel, and that's when everything gets really ridiculous.

     "A _SPECTRE_?" Kaidan asks. He's standing in the Council chamber, his newly-rehydrated mouth hanging open. "You're making him _what_?"

     The clone shifts uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes. Beside him, Jondam Bau shrugs. "It was either that or put him in jail," the SPECTRE says, skimming a datapad. "And though he's confessed to assaulting Commander Shepard, Shepard never pressed charges, so technically the clone has no criminal record. And most importantly, this gentleman has made a persuasive case."

     Beyond them, holograms of two of the Council stand watching -- and nodding too, much to Kaidan's shock. The salarian Councilor is there in person, and she looks annoyed and impatient, her long arms folded. Kaidan can't think about them. He stares at the clone (the third human SPECTRE, clone of the first, did they really actually think this through?) and blurts, " _Case?_ "

     "You were missing," the clone says. He's put his hands on the railing of the supplicants' platform, gaze focused somewhere in the middle distance. "I had a ship, people to help me, I just needed to know where to start. Your files were protected, though; I needed SPECTRE access. So I told Bau." A muscle in his jaw flexes. "I had to tell him everything. You should've just told me where you were going."

     That "I told you so" is the cherry on this sundae of what-the-fuckery. Kaidan glares at Bau. "He told you he was Shepard's clone -- who tried to kill him, and me -- and _you gave him SPECTRE access_?"

     "On a one-time basis, on the condition that he allow me to follow him and see what he did with it, yes." The salarian shrugs, unapologetic. "I thought it meaningful that you'd discovered him some months ago and decided to aid him instead of turning him in, so I did the same."

     Oh. Kaidan grimaces. Bau continues:

     "And once Shepard's clone had the necessary information, he assembled on short notice a crew of surprising expertise, for a mission with nigh-impossible chances, to travel in an experimental ship of his own design -- "

     "The design was Maelon's," the clone interjects. "And I hired the rest of the crew weeks ago. We were almost ready for shakedown when this happened."

     "Yes, yes, but you _restrained_ Maelon, and successfully channeled his impulses in a useful manner. He's not even an engineer." Bau seems most impressed by this point.

     "And between the two of you," says the asari Councilor, who's been watching in holo, "you ended a dire threat to the Citadel, and both lived to be of further use. The SPECTREs have been shorthanded since the start of the war, Major, as you'd surely know if you'd read the mission reports -- "

     Kaidan glares at her. Who does she think he is, Shepard? "I have read the reports, ma'am, thanks." But that doesn't mean he would ever have imagined this.

     Bau has folded his arms, frowning at Kaidan. "I have to say, Major Alenko, I'd expected you to be pleased as well. Are you and our newest SPECTRE not, er -- " He frowns, perhaps trying to make sure he's using the word properly. "Lovers? It reflects well on you that he is as competent and resourceful as he is. Why, if I were human, I'd offer him a reproduction contract too -- er, sans reproduction, obviously. You take my meaning, however you people do things."

     Kaidan's face heats. He looks at the clone, who still isn't looking at him -- and this time he sees how tight the other man's shoulders are. How hard he's gripping that railing. And then it finally hits Kaidan: what the clone has done. This is a man who _hates_ being compared to Shepard. Who wanted a life of his own, free from Shepard's legacy. Now he's outed himself to the entire damned galaxy. He'll be Shepard's shadow, forever. The newshounds will go nuts when they hear about it. _Shepard_ will go nuts. And the clone has chosen to bear it all.

     For Kaidan.

     He looks like this now -- hunched and miserable and alone in the middle of the Council chamber -- because... Oh, God. _Because he thinks Kaidan might not want him anymore_. Not if he's just "the clone" and not his own man.

     And then it hits Kaidan, with full-epiphany-force. The clone has _always_ been "the clone" in Kaidan's mind. And the clone knows it.

     So Kaidan, staring at those tense shoulders, says softly, "I am pleased, Bau. Just... surprised. Really surprised. But this is a good thing, too."

     There: a twitch. Surprise? Relief? Hard to tell from here. It's minute, but the clone definitely reacted to those words. In spite of himself, Kaidan smiles. Then he looks up at the Council and steps forward. "I suppose there are no rules against fraternization?" Since the SPECTREs don't really have rules.

     "Who you mate with -- provided that it doesn't interfere with your work -- is none of our concern," says the turian Councilor, waving a clawed hand. "There have been a few mated groupings among the SPECTREs down the centuries, and generally it increases their effectiveness. That's why we only permit members of _mature_ species to join." He says this with both faint emphasis and an air of judgment, as if he's not quite certain humanity qualifies. But at least he didn't do the air quotes thing this time.

     "If there are no more objections, then?" Bau eyes Kaidan, who shakes his head, still feeling dazed. Bau glances at the Council.

     "Yes, let's get on with it," says the salarian Councilor, who touches a panel to register her vote. The other two key in as well -- no one's replaced Udina since Shepard shot him -- and that's that.

     The holo-Councilors congratulate the clone and leave. The salarian Councilor waves vaguely and mutters about wasted time as she walks off. Jondam Bau says to the clone, firmly, "It has been a genuine pleasure, fellow SPECTRE. Welcome to the ranks."

     And then finally it's just the two of them, in the middle of the Council chamber.

     Kaidan steps up to the rail beside the clone, mindful of the security cameras that are likely recording their conversation even now. He keeps an inch or two between them, just for appearances' sake. "Thank you for saving my life," he says, quietly.

     Another twitch, and no further reply. The clone's already said it, though. _Why wouldn't I find you?_ That's what lovers do. So Kaidan sighs and adds, "I'm sorry. You were right. I should've trusted you. I... don't think I've fully trusted you all this time."

     "I know," the clone says very softly, still gazing into the middle distance.

     Kaidan wants to reach out and take the other man's hand, but not here. Not on camera. Some things should be saved for the right moment. So instead he says, "Hell of a way to prove yourself to me, though. Not that you should've had to."

     "I'll always have to." A heavy sigh. "With everyone else, now, if not you."

     That's true. But... Kaidan looks at him. In profile his face is more Shepard than usual: stubborn brow, tight lips, set jaw. Shepard isn't a good man, though, and... Kaidan shakes his head, at himself. There should be _one_ person in this damned galaxy who isn't going to compare the two of them. Right then and there, Kaidan vows never to do it again.

     "I'll help you," Kaidan says.

     Those dark, dark eyes flicker to meet Kaidan's. Uncertainty? It doesn't suit him. But he says, "I, ah, I picked a new name. The Council wanted that, too, if I passed muster. For the PR."

     Kaidan shakes his head in annoyance. Of course they're going to use him. It's wartime, and the galaxy's short on heroes. The clone of Shepard -- his history carefully sanitized for public consumption -- will make a nice propaganda prize. "Well, you didn't like the old one, anyway." Bailey picked that one when he joined C-SEC. "So, who are you now?"

     A shift from foot to foot. "I don't -- It's not -- " He sighs. "Eleazar. Eleazar _Shepard_. The Council insisted on the last part. The first part was Maelon's idea. He was drunk." Unsaid, though, is that the clone accepted the name. He must like it.

     Kaidan snorts. "Salarians shouldn't drink."

     "I made him swear not to, when he's on ship or within a day of boarding." The clone -- Eleazar -- sighs. "He's a good man. He just needs another chance. They're all good people. You'll see."

     Kaidan shakes his head, amused. It's all so obvious, in hindsight. " 'You'd be more effective with a frigate.' "

     "Or a corvette, I said."

     "I didn't know C-SEC paid so well."

     "I'm going to be paying it off for a while. Unless SPECTRE salaries are a lot better?"

     "Not really." Kaidan eyes him. "You aren't paying for experimental armor and a _Thanix_ \-- even a little one -- on an installment plan."

     "Oh. No. Those are a gift from Maelon. He's happy I gave him something to do." Eleazar rubs his nose. "He might have robbed some banks."

     Oh dear God. "Might have...?"

     "From colonies and cities that don't exist anymore." At Kaidan's flinch, he sighs. "He said we're going to use it to get back at the Reapers who killed them. I told him to quit it anyway. There's, uh, there's already a lot, though."

     It's almost like right. Kaidan grimaces, but sighs. "I guess anything goes, for SPECTREs."

     "No." Eleazar is suddenly firm. "You want order. We'll do things on the up-and-up, wherever possible."

     And, Kaidan realizes at last, Eleazar has decided that he wants whatever _Kaidan_ wants. Kaidan finds himself grinning at this beautiful, incredible, newly-ethical man. They shouldn't have given him Shepard's name. Genes have nothing to do with who a person really is.

     "C'mon," Kaidan says, straightening. "If we hustle, we can grab a transit to that hotel we used last time before Khalisah al-Jilani finds us."

     Eleazar's not meeting Kaidan's eyes again, but this time Kaidan thinks it's something other than discomfort. "I'm moving onto the ship," he says. Kaidan blinks. "We have to rent the docking space anyway. Tankbred -- that's the krogan -- lives on-ship too, but the captain's berth is private." Kaidan senses there's more, and sure enough, after a moment, he adds, "I mean, we don't _have_ to share."

     Is that...? It is. And it's the best thing Kaidan's heard since a voice broke through dark space. Suddenly he doesn't care anymore about the cameras; he steps closer. Takes the other man's hand. "Actually, sharing sounds good."

     Eleazar scowls down at their joined hands. Covering up fear, again. "You know they're going to say you're with me because... because I'm _him_."

     Kaidan knows. But. "You're definitely not him."

     "And you know he's going to be upset -- "

     That was like calling a supernova fireworks. Kaidan steps closer still, turns Eleazar to face him, and kisses him. He means it to be tender, a reassurance, and it is. When they part, he rests his forehead against the other man's and says for extra measure, "I don't care about him."

     Eleazar goes instantly tense. Not quite fear. His eyes search Kaidan's as Kaidan lifts a hand to cup his cheek. "You _used_ to."

     "Yeah." Kaidan can't lie. "Part of me... yeah, was still thinking about _him_ whenever I looked at _you_. But..." He shakes his head. It's hard to explain. "I don't feel like that anymore. That me died back in dark space."

     Eleazar lets his eyes drift shut, and something -- some tension that's been there all the while, maybe since Kaidan took up with him -- goes out of him. "Glad only _that_ you died."

     "Don't I know it." Kaidan tilts his head a little for a nuzzle; Eleazar takes him up on the tacit request immediately, brushing lips against Kaidan's and breathing in his sigh. "Rest of me's all yours, though, now."

     Eleazar's eyes flick open, so intent that it takes Kaidan's breath away. "I want sex, then."

     Hello. Kaidan forces himself not to smile, lest it be misinterpreted. "We can maybe do that."

     Eleazar nods. "Come on. We can exit the Presidium without the reporters noticing if we cut through the power conduit tunnels." He pauses, considers. "I guess I should tell somebody about that."

***

     It's 4 a.m., and they're fucking.

     El -- it took less than an hour for this nickname to fall from Kaidan's lips, and for Eleazar to answer, "Yeah?" -- is on top. That's not something they do often; Kaidan's the experienced one, so usually Kaidan takes the lead. This time, though, El wants. El's hungry. He's got one elbow braced on the bed and the other hooked under one of Kaidan's knees, and his breath is a low rhythmic pant that Kaidan thinks he's going to hear in his next erotic-replay dreams. He's definitely going to taste his lover's mouth in that dream, because Eleazar is deep in it there, too, nipping and thrusting with little dips of his tongue and making little sounds -- too quick and strained to qualify as moans. Then El sighs reluctantly and pushes himself up, shifting to a better position for the long haul.

     They're both being quiet because the ship doesn't have good soundproofing yet. That's on the wishlist. There's no one aboard except Tankbred, who doesn't care, and Maelon, who's on withdrawal meds and dead asleep, but still. Kaidan's a prim and proper guy, so Eleazar's fucking him primly and properly. Strictly low groans and murmurs, nothing too dirty. Strictly microshielded cocks, frictionlessly slippery; safe, non-messy fucking is the order of the day. Strictly missionary position -- at least now that they've stopped sucking each other off -- with Kaidan's legs propped against El's shoulders, because this angle drives him crazy and he thinks El knows that. He thinks El _wants_ that. He thinks -- well, Kaidan's actually pretty sure about this -- that he's not going to last very long. Or stay entirely quiet, either.

     But that's good, because it's pretty obvious that El isn't holding back this time. His eyes are shut, his breath coming hard; now and again he shakes his head, as if fighting himself. Actually that's probably what he's doing. Kaidan murmurs soft encouragements, forgetting that he probably shouldn't, but God, how he wants. He wants everything. He'd beg if it wouldn't put pressure on the other man, and he doesn't want to do that, doesn't want anything El doesn't give freely -- but God, Kaidan wants him to feel that free. Finally.

     The clone -- okay, Kaidan's not going to be able to give that up instantly, but he's going to do better -- drops Kaidan's legs and shifts again, settling so he can kiss Kaidan again while his hips work. He's good and deep, and relentless, and when he presses his face into Kaidan's neck, Kaidan thinks _this is what it feels like to die_. It's so good. "Oh, God," he blurts. "God, please." That's begging, but he can't help it anymore. "Please."

     Eleazar shudders violently. "What -- " His voice is broken, wild, frightened. " _Fuck_."

     Kaidan's losing his mind. He fumbles a hand between them to work his cock, feverishly. "Are you gonna -- " _Hold back, withhold yourself, don't you trust me yet, I'm sorry I didn't trust you, please let's try this_ " -- again? Are you -- "

     "No." A sweat-dampened forehead presses against Kaidan's temple; he's shaking all over like a ship about to fly apart. But his voice hardens suddenly, and this time he sounds sure and ready and unafraid. "Not this time."

     It's the most erotic thing he's ever said. And it's beautiful, his orgasm, when it finally comes. His yielding, his loving. Kaidan holds him as tightly as sweaty slippery skin allows, rocks with him, makes little sounds in tandem with his lover's soft sobs. He's barely aware if he comes himself. He doesn't _care_ if he comes himself. All that matters is the way this man's body judders and jumps on his, the way his hips grind uncontrollably, the way he whimpers in something too overwhelmed to be relief. It's everything he's got, nothing held back. Everything, for Kaidan.

     Afterward, he pulls out but stays on top, not even trying to keep his weight off Kaidan, in a heavy-breathing stupor. Kaidan strokes the back of his neck, kisses his shoulder, soothes him. Loves him, more than he ever dreamed he would.

     It should scare Kaidan, this intense feeling -- but it doesn't. Not anymore. Because he knows, now, exactly what it is that he wants... and he's got it, right now. Right here.

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of notes!
> 
> -Yes, "Eleazar" is the same name as Lazarus. The latter is a Latin mangling of the Hebrew former. Yes, the clone likes it. Yes, Maelon was drunk.
> 
> -Wow, there's a lot of Judeo-Christian callbacks in this one. Wonder what's up with that.
> 
> -This is what an Alliance corvette looks like. Isn't it cute? http://img02.deviantart.net/f1eb/i/2016/140/8/0/alliance_corvette_condor_class_concept_by_nach77-d6mopp2.jpg
> 
> -You probably don't want to know how close I came to titling this story "Little Dead(guy's) Corvette"
> 
> -"Lazarus, Again" is probably my least-popular ME story, but... IDK, for some reason I just really love writing about this guy. If you're wondering, I envision the clone as sort of barely human; he's learned how to emulate ordinary human behavior, but it's all a performance, as Kaidan has started to figure out. He'll get better with time, but he's always going to read as "weird" to others.
> 
> -As I mentioned in the previous stories, this Shepard is based on cypheroftyr's Renegade!mShep, who's a real bastard, but who loves him some Cortez. The Shepard clone's new form and personality are based on my Paragrade (becoming Paragon) Shepard, who's black and a Vanguard who does stealth/sniper attacks because the Black Widow is the best gun evar.
> 
> -Yes, he and Kaidan are now co-captains to a crew of Shepard-leftovers, including but not limited to: Maelon Heplorn on science and engineering, when sober; Tankbred (yes, the one you encounter on Korlus in ME2) on munitions; the unnamed indentured quarian you also meet in ME2, now freed from her service, on tech stuff and probably helping to keep Maelon from turning the ship into a combination time machine and Taco Bell; Jenna from ME1 on security; and yes, that *is* motherfucking Conrad Verner. Because I said so.
> 
> -Unstated, but the clone has also invited the casino-embezzling AI from ME1 -- which IMO wouldn't have died so easily, no matter how annoying that goddamn mini-game was -- to come aboard and handle cybersecurity, the way EDI does for the Normandy SR2. The clone figures it's dangerous, sure, but people think evil clones are dangerous, so whatev. Kaidan's going to shit a brick.
> 
> -There might be a sequel; if there is, Shepard is coming for dat ass. So are the Reapers, who should be attempting to take over the Citadel any day now. Haven't decided whether everyone will survive.


End file.
